Page 18 of Alpha's Revenge Luna

Dion glares at me, his gaze piercing, and pushes the glass toward me.

“Drink it,” he orders. I feel my heart clench, and stomach drop, the realization of my failed plan hitting me like a ton of bricks.

I know that many sleeping pills may kill me without my wolf.

Someone as big as him, it would just make him sleep; he’s immortal after all, so I crushed the entire bottle up.

“No, thank you,” I decline, averting my gaze, and Tara’s eyes widen a little before they dart to the bottle of whiskey.

I swallow, guiltily, feeling the eyes of everyone watching me.

“I said drink it!” he screams, his fist coming down on the table as he orders me.

The command washes over me, and I snatch up the glass.

Bringing it to my lips, I chug the entire glass in one mouthful.

It burns and tastes ghastly, but Dion pours another.

He pushes the glass toward me again, and I shake my head.

“Drink it,” he once again orders. Tears brim in my eyes. I’m going to die. I’m gonna die! With Dion’s command ringing in my ears, I am forced to down the spiked whiskey, the potent mix and blood burning its way down my throat. He pours another glass.

“Please, no more,” I beg. “I can’t drink anymore.” I worry, my heart beating faster in my chest, the drug’s effects taking swift hold of me.

“Why can’t you?” he questions. My pulse thrums loudly in my ears, drowning out all surrounding noise. What the fuck is in those pills? I wonder as my surroundings blur, my heart rate thumping erratically in my chest. When I say nothing, Dion speaks again, nudging the glass.

“Drink it,” Dion orders, only this time, it’s a whisper. Sweat beads on my neck and my hand trembles as I try to fight his command.

“It wasn’t a choice,” Dion states, and I shakily lift the glass to my lips.

I can hear everyone talking softly as Dion tells them to finish their dinner. Dion, however, doesn’t eat, he just watches me. I feel queasy, and I notice Dion waves Tara over.

She obeys and then rushes off somewhere. Time seems to slow right down. My heart is pumping loudly in my ears, and I feel like I am burning up.

Tara returns, passing Dion something. Through my blurred vision, I can’t tell what it is.

Dion rises, and his Beta, Kyrio, stands.

Dion grabs me and jams his fingers down my throat. However, I feel like jelly, my limbs are floppy, and are no longer working, my tongue is thick in my mouth and my limbs do not cooperate.

”What is it?” his Beta panics.

“Sleeper pills,” Dion shouts. The Beta gasps and suddenly, everyone is up and moving

“I’ll grab Doc!” Kyrio calls out, taking off, and Dion scoops me up, then starts running.

“You foolish girl,” Dion snaps at me as a cold, hard surface jolts me back to consciousness. Dion is there, panic etched on his face as he shoves his fingers down my throat, trying to induce vomiting. Tara is suddenly prying my mouth open, and I can hear things clanging around, falling off shelves.

Dion shoves a tube down my throat as another man comes in. I assume he’s the doctor Kyrio was speaking of. “How long ago?” a deep voice asks and Tara answers.

“Ten minutes, fifteen max.” Suddenly a needle is plunged into my arm while I gag around the tube.

“She’s gonna need your blood, some will be in her blood stream already if not all of it may be.”

The world blurs in and out of focus as the tube down my throat starts working, the sensation of my stomach being pumped is indescribable and not one I want to endure again.

Suddenly, a new sensation hits me - the feeling of Dion’s blood being transfused into mine.

It’s a strange mix of invigoration and refreshment that wipes out the horrible, nauseous feeling.

When I finally open my eyes, I find Dion gazing at me, a fury burning in his eyes that makes me shudder.

Doc comes over and checks my vitals, and I wonder how long I was out.

Sitting up, I oddly feel the best I ever have, like I could run a marathon.

“Out, everyone,” Dion snarls, his command sending everyone scampering out of the room. He tosses the bottle of pills in my lap. “Do you know what these are?”

“Sleeping pills,” I respond, guilt washing over me. But Dion shakes his head.

“No, they are sleeper pills,” he corrects, and I blanch at his words.

“Those pills are designed to kill werewolves. They don’t just make you sleep, they shut down your body, system by system, basically like rat poison for wolves.

Your heart would’ve stopped, your lungs collapsed, and organs would have ruptured without my fucking blood! And even that isn’t a guarantee!”

The gravity of my actions hit me, and I feel a wave of despair wash over me. I hadn’t just tried to incapacitate Dion, I had nearly committed murder. “Why? At least answer me that!” he snarls angrily.

“I didn’t know what they were, I thought they said Sleeping , not Sleeper ,” I admit.

“So what was the plan, Emery? Knock me out and run?” I glance away but the way he says it, it sounds like he is mocking me for even trying.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, feeling ashamed of myself.

He scoffs and turns away from me. “That’s all you have to say? You could have killed me or one of my pack members. You could have killed yourself!” He shakes his head in disappointment.

“I didn’t realize. I wouldn’t have if I knew they weren’t what I thought.” My confession hangs in the air between us as he stares at me with disbelief. He takes a few deep breaths before sighing heavily.

“That’s it? You were just going to run away?” His voice is softer now but still carries an edge of frustration that cuts me straight down to my soul. “Get up,” Dion orders and I slip off the bed.

“What are you going to do?” I ask him but he doesn’t answer, instead just grips my wrist dragging me from the room. The closer we draw to my room, the heavier the sinking feeling in my stomach gets. His demeanor changes swiftly within seconds, turning cold, and indifferent.

However, before we turn down the last corridor toward my room, he pauses, jerking me down another.

I glance back down the way we came when Dion leads me somewhere else.

He doesn’t stop to check if I am still following, probably knowing his aura was keeping me in place.

He stops at the door, twisting the handle and pushes the door open. I find it’s his bedroom.

Stunned, I take in the room. It was obviously designed for a king with its large windows and decadent furniture.

The walls are a deep red velvet, and golden accents hang everywhere.

Fine art adorns the walls, and it smells of rich incense.

Dion steps into the room, pulling me with him as he closes the door behind us.

He drops my wrist and moves away from me without saying anything.

I scan the room as I try to figure out why he would bring me here when it’s obvious this is his personal space. He strides across the room toward a small desk and withdraws something from it before turning back to me. My heart leaps in my throat when I realize what he has in his hands. A rope.

He doesn’t say anything as he stands there, staring at me with those intense eyes, holding the rope between us like an unspoken challenge.

My gaze shifts to the bed. His expression is neutral, but his aura radiates determination, as if daring me to refuse what he is offering.

Although I am still not sure what he offers, a rope is anything but good.

He moves across the room to a door barely visible.

I wouldn’t have known it was there without him opening it.

He motions for me to follow him, and I shake my head.

“Emery, don’t test me,” he warns, but I back up. Why does he have a secret room, why the rope? Turning, I make a run for the door, but he captures me before I make it three steps. I thrash in his grip. He doesn’t seem to care. “I warned you about misbehaving, I warned you you’d be punished.”

Dion’s dominating presence fills the room, an intimidating and overpowering force that sends an instinctive tremble through me. He gives me a deliberate look, a clear assertion of his authority that communicates his intentions more effectively than any word could.

The room we are in is lavish, but there’s a disturbing intensity that unsettles me. Every inch of the space screams decadence from the polished marble floor to the obsidian black walls. The ceiling is high, with large iron hooks embedded in the overhead beams, which several ropes hang from.

My breath hitches in my throat. A Sandalwood incense and a heavy musky cologne fills the air and is only interrupted by the heady scent of leather.

This room feels alien, dangerous, and his playground.

Only when he says punishment, I have a feeling this might be the worst, as he pushes me toward the center of the room.

I dig my feet in, refusing and struggling against him.

It was a simple plan, or so I thought. A few crushed sleeping pills in his drink would have bought me a chance to escape, a break from his dominating presence. But here I am, shackled in this room. The price for trying to drug Dion proves to be steep.

“You thought you could trick me, Emery?” His icy gaze is relentless, drinking in my futile struggles against him as he grabs my wrists, leading me across the room.

Lashing out, I manage to escape his grip, but only fleetingly before I am tossed like a rag doll. The thud of my body on the soft fabric makes me groan. The carpet is burning my skin.

The tension in the room is as tight as a drawn bowstring, poised to snap at any moment. Dion’s tall frame eclipses the little light seeping through the heavy drapes. His silhouette is an intimidating outline, a dominant force preparing to rain down retribution.

“I’m not your toy, Dion!” I shout at him, my voice shrill and uneven against the stillness of the room. “You can’t expect me to just roll over!” I sneer, accessing my knee and hip.

His laughter, cold and harsh, sends icy tendrils creeping down my spine. “We’ll see about that, little wolf,” he says, the threat in his words thickening the air between us.

I close my eyes, attempting to calm my racing heart. Memories of his past punishments send tremors through me, only this is different. He wants to truly punish me, hurt me. His ruthless dominance has stripped me of any illusion of control.

His footfalls echo in the quiet, growing louder as he approaches. My breath catches as his shadow falls over me, a shiver running down my spine. He leans down, his icy eyes boring into mine as he crouches in front of me.

“Did you really think you could slip something into my drink, and I wouldn’t notice?” His tone is low, laced with danger and bitter amusement. “What poor judgement, Emery.”

“I had to try…” My voice is a feeble attempt at defiance, but it sounds more like a plea. A plea for what? Mercy? Understanding? I’m not sure.

His lips curve into a cruel smile. “And now, you must face the consequences.” The finality in his voice seals my fate.

He points behind me, and I glance over my shoulder at the huge cross covered in restraints.

“You’re sick,” I snap at him, scrambling away from him, but he grips my ankle, ripping me back.

I fall on my stomach, turning as he tries to pin me.

Somehow, I manage to sit up. Using my other foot, I kick him, it narrowly misses his face and hits his shoulder when he moves at the last second.

The snarl that leaves him freezes the air in my lungs.

The first strike is swift and unexpected. His palm collides with my cheek, and a sharp sting radiates across my face. A metallic taste fills my mouth, and I realize I’ve bitten my tongue in shock.

“Now, let’s try this again, Emery,” he coos.

He grips my face, his thumb brushing over my bleeding lip. “Emery,” Dion begins, his tone brooking no argument, his face stern, and yet, there’s a glimmer in his eyes that sends a chill down my spine.

He signals back to the cross affixed to the wall, my eyes widening as I take in the intimidating sight.

He gestures for me to stand before it, his dominant aura forcing me into submission.

Trembling, I do as commanded, my heartbeat echoing in my ears.

He binds my wrists and ankles, each knot expertly secured, allowing for a little movement.

. His hands are firm, but careful, as he each time he hits new flesh. He doesn’t utter a single word.

With each smack, I feel a wave of heat rise and sliver up my spine, the pain melting into something else. My body reacts in ways I have never imagined, an odd mix of pleasure and pain that leaves me gasping, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.